


reticence

by Molnija



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Urban Fantasy, did someone say onesided soulmates, follows canon but not really, hiyori bby i'm so sorry you deserve better than this, ish???, the author would like to formally apologise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-17 17:16:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16100180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molnija/pseuds/Molnija
Summary: “In the water you’re alone, but on the shore, everybody’s waiting for you.”





	reticence

**Author's Note:**

> I had a similar concept in a hq!! fic once ... this one just takes that idea and slaps you in the face with it multiple times. I'm sorry
> 
> not long ago I said I wouldn't write any sad Ikuhiyos ... but this was too fitting to pass up and I do enjoy making people feel intense emotional pain, so ...
> 
> this feels so much longer than it actually is. maybe that's just me? writing it was emotionally exhausting, plus it's split into so many different parts, it's easy to lose track. hm
> 
> to clarify some things beforehand because the story never outright says it: Hiyori is Ikuya's Assigned Guardian Angel. everything else pretty much plays in canonverse (with alterations), except. yknow. Hiyori isn't there. except he is there. haha. it's funny because it hurt to write
> 
> "reticence" is a nice word, but it does sound really similar to "retrograde". this fic has nothing to do with that one though, it's just coincidence ...

The first thing he remembered was the sensation of falling, refusing to open his eyes lest it was more than just an illusion, and then, the crushing weight of silence.

Silence for a long time. Silence for what felt like an eternity, and thinking that this had to be some sort of punishment, living in a world where nothing existed – or maybe everything was out there and he just didn’t know because he still refused to look.

Silence for so long the sudden sound startled him.

It was a dull sound. Like he was hearing it from behind a million walls, just loud enough to know that it was real, the steady _thump, thump, thump_ of somebody’s heartbeat.

He didn’t know why he knew that it was a heartbeat. It was a miracle he had any words at all, so he decided not to question it. If he did, this, too, might fall apart and he’d be left alone again in silence.

 _Thump, thump, thump._ Like the beat for a song he hadn’t written yet, but that he already knew would be his greatest work. Something about it felt safe. Like home. Like a place where he could open his eyes without fear.

He wanted to chase after that sound.

_Thump, thump, thump._

He couldn’t move. He could hardly think. He was vaguely aware that he was alive – so he thought, at least; death would not feel this real, but what did he know about death – but that was it. All he had was that sound, and that desire deep inside him to seek it out.

_Thump, thump, thump._

Louder. Maybe he was imagining it. Maybe it was coming closer. Nothing about it mattered.

He still had his eyes screwed shut.

_Thump, thump, thump._

No, it was definitely getting louder. He decided that realising that it was must be a good thing. It meant he wasn’t completely lost yet.

_Thump, thump, th—_

It stopped abruptly. Cut right through the middle of the sound with a blade sharper than any he’d ever seen.

He couldn’t think that he was back in silence before something else reached his ears.

_Open your eyes._

No. No. He couldn’t. He didn’t know why – perhaps he was being paranoid – but the thought of facing whatever situation he was in filled him with an overwhelming sense of fear. This way he could play pretend.

_Open your eyes._

It was a lovely voice, one he had never heard before but that felt familiar nonetheless. A voice he didn’t want to disobey, to disappoint. But— But.

If he openened his eyes—

_Look at me, Hiyori._

So he did.

 

* * *

 

 _the one waiting for me on the shore is_ _『_ _』_

 

* * *

 

Eyes the colour of the sunset and the autumn leaves, looking up at the starry sky with wonder.

Hair like the deepest ocean, dark and soft and wild, falling all over his face in a way that must be annoying.

Skin like porcelain, just as fragile, just as pristine, making him seem weak like Hiyori knew he wasn’t.

A smile that echoed the sun itself, blinding and warm and addicting, causing his own lips to twist upward and his own heart to soar whenever he saw it.

Kirishima Ikuya was ethereal.

Hiyori knew he probably had no business saying that, being the closest thing to an ethereal being himself, but he didn’t really care. He had nobody to say it out loud to anyway, so he might as well think it, and he sure as hell believed it.

Sometimes he wondered if there might even be a point to it. After all, even though by all accounts he shouldn’t, there were times when he felt like Ikuya was looking his way for longer than otherwise explainable. Despite knowing that there was no real point to it, Hiyori always ended up hiding behind something, though never quickly enough to make much of a difference.

But if Ikuya really did see him, he never said a word, so he might have been imagining that after all.

 

* * *

 

_look at me_

 

* * *

 

He found himself listening to Natsuya a lot.

Hiyori wasn’t quite sure whether he really put any thought into what to say or was just making all his wisdoms up on the spot, but he’d usually end up nodding in agreement after all, even if he didn’t quite understand it. Natsuya just had a way of making you listen.

If Ikuya was the reason he stayed at the pool, keeping watch on him every day, his brother was the reason he liked to sit in this particular spot under the tree by the wired fence. It seemed like Natsuya had picked the corner as his favourite spot to take a break and talk to his teammates, and sometimes to Ikuya, too.

“You’re alone, but you’re not _alone_ , you know,” he said to him one day, and Ikuya looked at him with narrowed eyes and a confused cock of the head. Natsuya crossed his arms and looked at the pool, thinking, before continuing, “Swimming is a sport like running, where your competitors don’t really matter. It’s not like football or volleyball where you have to react to what they do. You just do your best on your own.”

“So you’re alone,” Ikuya concluded, with a dark tinge to his voice that made Hiyori’s heart ache.

 _You’re not_ , he wanted to say, and _I’m right here_ , but no words came out. Even if they had, Ikuya wouldn’t have heard anyway.

“You’re not,” Natsuya echoed Hiyori’s thoughts. “Yeah, you’re swimming on your own, but you’ve still got your teammates cheering and hoping you win, and they’ll help you train and all that. It’s like …”

A small smile appeared on his lips and he reached out to ruffle Ikuya’s hair, only to receive an indignant squawk in return that was frankly _adorable._

“In the water you’re alone, but on the shore, everybody’s waiting for you.”

 

* * *

 

 _he is_ _『_ _』_ _to you_

 

* * *

 

He almost drowned, once.

He didn’t, of course, because Hiyori was there to reach for him and pull him out – not the smartest thing he’d ever done, he should have just shoved someone else in that direction, but in that moment he couldn’t think that far – all he had was the sensation of water filling his lungs and a shout of Ikuya’s name on his lips and the distinct thought, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he shouldn’t be this careless.

Thankfully, nobody seemed to notice that anything was up, to them it must have just looked like Ikuya had struggled to the surface on his own, conscious for just long enough to reach the edge of the pool and collapse on the ground.

Hiyori had let him go immediately when he’d noticed that Ikuya was capable of getting that far on his own. It was convenient, really, that it hadn’t ended in what looked to others like an invisible person dragging him on land. Despite everything, a lot of things worked out that day.

Even when Hiyori was kneeling on the ground, coughing up water, it was all fine in the end.

He stayed at the hospital, listening to Natsuya chew Ikuya out about overworking for a good twenty minutes, and while he had to agree, he couldn’t help but feel like something about it was off. Maybe it was the way Ikuya stared at his blanket, or how nobody else was coming, nobody but Hiyori, who sat there and watched him read the same book over and over again.

Hiyori liked books, in theory. Picking them up proved impossible – he could touch things but never move them, unless it was when Ikuya was in danger, or so he assumed – but he liked looking at the pretty covers and sometimes, when Ikuya was asleep and he allowed himself to stray away for a bit, he’d go look if there were any readings going on in the nearby library. It wasn’t often, but occasionally he’d find something, and he’d sit there and listen to the stories they told.

The book Ikuya was flipping through again and again was _The Little Mermaid_ , one that Hiyori was actually pretty acquainted with by now, since it was easy to sit next to Ikuya and read along with him.

To be honest, he didn’t particularly like the story.

But it was Ikuya’s favourite, so he had it memorised anyway, each and every word.

 

* * *

 

_it’s not fair_

 

* * *

 

_Thump, thump, thump._

He felt the beat resonating through his body when he raised his hand to his chest. It was a familiar sound, one that felt like home and belonging, like that person was right here, like the chest he was touching wasn’t his.

_Thump, thump, thump._

Pulsing in a steady rhythm, though faster sometimes, and when that happened, Hiyori would hold on tight to that feeling, trying to say _it’s okay_ and _I’m here_ and _you’re okay_.

_Thump, thump, thump._

Two hearts beating in unison – or perhaps not, perhaps his own heart wasn’t beating at all. It didn’t make a difference. All that mattered was knowing Ikuya’s.

_Thump, thump, thump._

Steady, steady.

_Thump, thump, thump._

Even if it wasn’t his, it was still _his_.

 

* * *

 

_look at me_

 

* * *

 

A certain name was coming up a lot ever since Ikuya had moved back to Japan.

Hiyori never bothered to remember that name, only the shadow of pain in Ikuya’s expression whenever he heard it. That was precisely why he hated the person the name belonged to. Anyone who made Ikuya look like this was an enemy in his book.

He’d grown quiet ever since the _incident_ , quieter even than before. He was training more, too; Hiyori could tell not only by the increasing amount of time they both spent at the pool, but also by the frequent soreness in his own muscles. To say he was concerned would have been an understatement, but all he could do was watch from the side lines and be ready to jump in should something happen.

Hiyori though that _that person_ was responsible for this, though he didn’t know how. Whenever the name was mentioned, Ikuya would have an extra long practice session. Were they a rival? Someone who had hurt Ikuya?

If it was the latter, it meant they were Hiyori’s responsibility to take care of.

Not that he could actually do anything about that. In a situation like this, you couldn’t really do much but talk, and that was a hurdle too high to overcome.

He couldn’t even talk to Ikuya, after all.

(He couldn’t even talk to his Ikuya.)

 

* * *

 

 _if only_ _『_ _』_ _could_

 

* * *

 

Rain was strange, when he thought about it.

Ikuya was a swimmer. He willingly spent a lot of time in water, sometimes colder than comfortable, pushing himself to the limit of what his body could achieve in it. Yet he’d still run from rain.

If Hiyori had been there – any more there than he was right now – he would have offered to share an umbrella on their way back from the pool to the dormitories. For now, all he could do was walk beside him and join in on getting soaked from above.

(It really was unpleasant, though he suspected that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with Ikuya. The world didn’t really have an effect on Hiyori. He would have felt the rain either way, because Ikuya did.)

This way, he could pretend like they were part of the same world, two friends walking in silence save for the occasional muttered curse. Like he could say something and Ikuya would turn his head and pick up on the conversation, or at least utter some form of _hm_ in response.

“It really won’t stop pouring, will it?” he asked despite better judgment.

Ikuya said nothing.

 

* * *

 

 _the one waiting for_ _『_ _』_ _on the shore is_ _『_ _』_

 

* * *

 

An ordinary night.

Ikuya asleep on the bottom bed.

Hiyori sitting on the top one (grateful that Ikuya still hadn’t been assigned a roommate).

Stars twinkling outside.

A gentle autumn breeze.

His muscles burning from the earlier workout.

An ordinary night—

A familiar name, muttered into a pillow.

Voice soft, pleading.

A name Hiyori never bothered remembering.

(The thought that maybe, just maybe, he had a heart after all, if hearing it could hurt him like this.)

 

* * *

 

 _if only_ _『_ _』_ _could_

 

* * *

 

Not quite existing came with a lot of drawbacks. Some of them were just annoying, like not being able to switch the channel when something bad was on TV. Some were a bit dangerous, like wanting to cross a busy street knowing full well that the car drivers couldn’t see you.

And some were soul-crushing.

Hiyori didn’t know why it hurt him this much. It could have been because he saw Ikuya falling deeper every night and was unable to do anything even though he was _right there_ , he should be protecting him, that was his job, but he couldn’t fix what wasn’t tangible. Or (and that was the far scarier option) it could have been because he wanted so desperately to be part of his life for real, to have Ikuya look at him even just once, to be acknowledged, to be liked, to be loved—

He was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he did love him.

It made sense, he thought, that he would. He had been by Ikuya’s side all this time, ever since he’d come to America, he knew more about him than anyone else, even Natsuya, and that desire to protect him … He wasn’t sure if it was something that defined his very being or if it had come from learning to love him. Perhaps it was both.

In the end, it didn’t matter either way. A lot of things didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if he could change any of them.

 

* * *

 

_look at me_

 

* * *

 

Ikuya in the water, and his racing heartbeat pounding away in Hiyori’s chest. He was always a sight to behold, especially now. Shionezaki had been a nice enough sports school, but Shimogami was a swimming powerhouse, and their coach’s experience and knowledge of the craft showed in their athletes’ prowess. Hiyori had picked up a lot about swimming just by being at the pool for Ikuya’s practices, but he hadn’t thought it possible for Ikuya to improve much more – and had been proven wrong.

It made him kind of proud. He knew he had nothing to do with it, but this was still _his person_ showing up everyone else and winning race after race. At this point, the reason he came to watch all the time wasn’t even primarily his duty to watch out for him, he just liked seeing Ikuya steamroll the competition.

That name hadn’t been coming up so much recently.

He still heard him whisper it sometimes, when he thought nobody was listening, or maybe he wasn’t even aware he was saying it. Every time he did, it was like a slap in the face. Hiyori wondered if he’d ever run into the person the name belonged to, and if so, what he would do – or what Ikuya would do, rather.

In a perfect world, he would see them and turn away, turn to Hiyori instead.

In the real world, up on that bridge with the sun setting over the crowded scenery of Tokyo, the opposite happened.

 

* * *

 

 _the one waiting for_ _『_ _』_ _『_ _』_ _is_ _『_ _』_

 

* * *

 

_Thump, thump, thump._

It hurt. It _hurt_. It had never hurt like this.

_Thump, thump, thump._

He was used to feeling the familiar ache in his muscles, or the itching skin of a mosquito bite. But never this. This was abstract. Surreal, yet painful all the same, like something inside him twisting and _twisting_ —

_Thump, thump, thump._

That heartbeat was all he had, but every single one made it hurt more.

_Thump, thump, thump._

Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop make it stop make it stop

 

* * *

 

_make it stop_

 

* * *

 

There were hardly any stars in Tokyo, yet Ikuya stared up anyway, as if looking long enough would make them appear.

(Maybe it would. Hiyori wouldn’t know.)

He wanted to say … Something, but even if Ikuya had heard him, he didn’t really know what was going on anyway. He only knew the intense pain it caused Ikuya, and the aftermaths of it, and he wondered what would have happened if he’d tried to pull him away that evening on the bridge. Would it have let him?

He was supposed to protect Ikuya from any harm, but they were here anyway, on a lonely playground in the middle of the night, and they were hurting.

Even now, the pain wouldn’t disappear, pulsing steadily in the place where he thought his heart was, and he didn’t know if it was Ikuya’s or his own.

_In the water you’re alone._

This was a bit like swimming, too. One miscalculation and you would drown.

How many had he made so far?

 

* * *

 

_please_

 

* * *

 

“There’s nobody out there,” Ikuya said to nobody in particular. His apartment was empty save for himself and Hiyori, and he wasn’t aware of the latter.

“That’s not true,” Hiyori replied anyway.

“Even if I sink, nobody will come to save me.”

“Of course they will.”

“I’m all by myself now.”

“I’m right here.”

“If something happens, nobody will be there.”

“Just open your eyes!”

“So I can’t rely on anyone.”

“ _Look at me!_ ”

The knife in his heart, a sharp, piercing kind of pain – and the beat of it against his ribcage, sending dull vibrations through his body that might have always been there and he’d just never noticed until recently – they turned his voice into little more than a sob.

Ikuya raised his head.

 

* * *

 

 _the one_ _『_ _』_ _『_ _』_ _『_ _』_ _is_ _『_ _』_

 

* * *

 

For a moment, he dared hope.

For a moment, he dared reach out – slowly, carefully, as if fighting against water.

For a moment, he dared think that perhaps miracles could occur, and perhaps Ikuya had heard him.

For a moment—

Ikuya stared straight through him and out of the window.

“It’s raining.”

Hiyori’s soul shattered in time with the raindrops tapping on the glass.

 

* * *

 

_please_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry
> 
> tumblr: http://toono-hiyori.tumblr.com/ I wouldn't mind if you yelled at me for this


End file.
